Graveyard
by CleverElf
Summary: Legolas and Aragorn's story begins and ends in a graveyard, spanning almost two hundred years. It starts thiry years before the fellowship of the ring and ends when Legolas rides on a ship away from middle earth. There are giant spiders, romantic caves false marriages, devilish twins, and much much more.
1. First Meeting

Legolas met Aragorn in a graveyard, not the most auspicious of meetings, but it was the beginning of a marvelous and lasting relationship that would endure a century and a half and many trials besides. On the day of this momentous beginning Legolas had journeyed for many days to visit his cousins of Rivendell, and was well worn out from the journey. The path between the great elven enclaves was never easy, but at that time monsters and other enemies were unusually plentiful, so Legolas arrived at Rivendell in less than prime condition. Aragorn had not lived in the elven city for many years, but had, by much coincidence been visiting for the past week. Had either Legolas or Aragorn chosen even slightly different times to visit Rivendell their story and that of the destruction of the one ring would be exceedingly altered. This chance occurrence took place about thirty years prior to the start of the Fellowship and the one ring was still in the care of Bilbo. This tale begins very differently. The day was partially cloudy, hanging over Rivendell like ripped curtain, many think that the weather had nothing to do with the day's events, but the elves believe that sky has much to say about the day's course. At any rate the blurred light illuminated Aragorn's dark head as he passed through the for-mentioned graveyard. He was returning to his room to ready for diner. In this moment Legolas was also crossing the very same plot of death. His mind was full of worries concerning the many problems facing Middle Earth. This was why he abandoned his usual elven grace to crash clumsily into Aragon.

He was extremely embarrassed by the occurrence and apologized immediately:

"Many apologies, I had much on my mind-" He stopped short, as he had no idea to whom he spoke.

"Aragorn." The human supplied. Legolas was taken by surprise by this name, and took a closer look at the man before him. He studied his stance, the way it was casual and yet the elf did not doubt that if provoked he would attack with haste and precision. His garb was plain, but well kept. His beard was neatly trimmed. On his face sat an expression of mild amusement as if Aragorn was used to this assessment. For some reason Legolas did not have difficulty believing that this man was Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and heir to the throne of Gondor.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last Aragorn," Legolas replied with a light smile. "My cousin Arwen has nothing but praise for you." The two stood in the graveyard appraising each other. "I am Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood, and would like to speak with you, though this time is not the best for me." For his turn Aragorn studied the elf. He was tall and lean, but well muscled. Even though he had just arrived from a journey of a few days at least his clothing was fine and long blond hair was in perfect order. He held himself in a manner befitting a prince, and his words were formal. Aragorn had heard much about prince Legolas of Mirkwood. Having grown up among elves he learned of the folk of Mirkwood than he would have otherwise. The elves spoke of his poise and nobility, his grace and control. Aragorn now saw that the stories were true. Legolas was a vision of poise and grace; he radiated an aura of elven power. Aragorn was quite taken aback by how much the sight of this elf moved him. The feeling was quite unsettling. There was nothing more for the two to discus. They had bumped into each other and introduced themselves, and yet both strangely wanted the conversation to continue. Aragorn nodded his agreement to continuing the conversation at a later time and then departed.

Legolas exited the graveyard feeling quite strange. For many years now the men he met seemed unimportant to him, their lives too fleeting to affect him, and yet this Aragorn had wedged himself into the elf's mind. He exchanged greetings with Elrond and dressed for diner, but all the while his thoughts strayed to Aragorn. The hot water felt good after days of hard riding and for a time Legolas was able to lose himself in the simple pleasure of being clean. He dressed in diner clothes he had previously set out and made his way to Elrond's chambers.

Aragorn was eating with Arwen, his closest friend and confidant. Throughout the meal he was withdrawn and distant from her, but she did not pry. Arwen knew that Aragorn would tell her what troubled him when he was ready. Aragorn had many puzzles that troubled him deeply; this was always his way in the long years she had known him and he always confided in her in the end. Arwen was not one to fill the air with meaningless chatter so they sat in silence. Arwen had troubles of her own. Unlike mortal girls, elves were not expected to marry as soon as they reached adulthood, but after two thousand years of remaining husbandless Arwen would soon have to find a partner. Soon for an elf could mean fifty year, but Arwen felt the expectations of her father and people in every action. It was more than simply marriage; Arwen had become disenchanted with her very immortality. She felt the burden of the years dragging her down. Some elves learned to rise above time and float through the currents of the universe like a autumn leaf, and Arwen was once like that, but for her time had soured and her immortal years had left behind their purpose.

Arwen considered her options as she dined with her human companion. She wondered what his troubles were. Aragorn for his part had many troubles. He sensed the darkness descending on middle earth, and worried for his people: the rangers of the north. At least this was at the surface of his mind, but underneath, thoughts of the elf prince swirled. Seeing Legolas had awakened something deep within Aragorn, but he did not perceive it at this point. He was so wrapped up in these worries that he did not notice Arwen's distraction, as he usually would have. So the two friends slowly ate in silence, consumed with problems that would take many years in the solving.

Legolas in the meantime was having an intense discussion with Elrond. He had come to Rivendell as an emissary for his father. The elf cities did not usually consult each other before acting, but both parties understood the need for solidarity against such an evil. This was thirty years prior to Frodo's journey and many peoples of middle earth were not yet aware of the approaching darkness, but the elves saw. Throughout this lengthy and intense conversation Legolas was much too preoccupied to think of Aragorn. The elf left Elrond's chambers after midnight, no conceivable course of action evident. Dissatisfied the elf retired to his room, utterly exhausted, and sank into a deep sleep.


	2. The Spider

Chapter Two: The Spider

Legolas left Rivendell seven days after his arrival. It was pure coincidence that Aragorn also planed to depart on that day. In the week leading up to this departure they saw each other in passing a few times, but did not speak much. The conversation they had planed to have never occurred. So when they set out down the same path they were a bit uncomfortable. It was mid fall so dried leaves plastered the road, but both Legolas and Aragorn knew how to walk unheard. They journeyed for hours with out any speech. The sun shone down on the travelers and the cool autumn breeze whispered through the forest. Legolas was still immersed in his consultations with Elrond. The elf king spoke of leaving middle earth all together. This bothered Legolas, it felt too much like giving up, and besides the peril was not nearly that great. Yet Legolas knew if the darkness did come the elves would probably flee. Elrond was satisfied with this answer and Legolas knew his father would be as well, but to Legolas abandoning middle earth did not quite feel right. He was aware of the human traveling beside him, but this did not seem to be of much consequence.

Aragorn's thoughts were of a distinctly different nature. He was centuries younger than the elf and had not learned to prioritize his thoughts nearly as well. He tried to think of his home with the rangers, or Arwen, or the approaching darkness, but his thoughts always strayed to the elf beside him. The light shimmered off his corn silk hair illuminating his elven perfection. His gray eyes were sharp and soft all at once, set off by pale golden skin. It bothered Aragorn deeply that he noticed these things. He had been with men before, but this immortal elf obviously had no interest in him. Still, it couldn't hurt to admire his strange beauty. Aragorn spent many years among the elves and was familiar with their bizarre splendor, but for some reason is looked different on Legolas.

Suddenly Legolas stopped, halting Aragorn with an outstretched arm. Aragorn looked at him questioningly, but the elf gestured for silence. They stood in place for a few moments with out making a sound.

"I think I hear someone approaching from the south." Legolas whispered in the language of the elves. Aragorn strained his ears and sure enough a faint sound of leaves crunching was drawing nearer from that direction. It was so soft even Aragorn, with the trained ears of a ranger, would not have heard it if Legolas had not pointed it out. Aragorn did not have time to admire his companion's skill. The crunching was drawing nearer and the pair had to decide how to respond. Legolas gestured to the trees as if to say: If we climb high enough we will be able to see them before they see us. Aragorn immediately saw the wisdom of this plan. He did not waste time agreeing, choosing to simply climb the nearest tree. There were very few branches at the base of the great pine, so Aragorn quickly scaled a smaller willow near by and jumped back to the pine when there were enough branches to support him.

Legolas noticed Aragorn's almost elflike grace and agility as he slithered up an aged oak. He did not have time to reflect on this information however, so he filed it away for later. Instead he turned his razor gaze to the south, scanning for the maker of the noise. He locked onto a shadow quickly moving in their direction. With a start he saw that it was a giant spider, to which Legolas had never seen the like. He had fought spiders before, great packs of them the size of carriages, but this was different. This spider was the size of an inn. Its legs were as thick as the tree in which Legolas hid, the color of eggplant and covered in spiky hairs like needles. Its body was round and thick, big enough to sink a ship. And yet none of this compared to the head, polka doted with eight wriggling eyes black as beetles and each the size of Legolas's head. Under this two tusks protruded, yellow brown and razor sharp, dripping great buckets of spittle onto the ground. When Legolas saw the beast it was too far away for him to understand its enormity, it fact it was just a dark blip hidden in the woods, but Legolas saw it. He pointed it out to Aragorn, who squinted in the general direction of the beast. Neither of them comprehended the problem at this point, thinking the spider was merely large and together they would easily slay the creature.

As it drew nearer though the true sight of the spider stunted them. Both of them were acclaimed warriors in their right, but neither knew how to even attempt to slay this beast. They stood still but for a moment, nonetheless the spider traveled so quickly that it was half a mile closer by the time they got over their astonishment. They could now see the beast's pincers extended towards them piercing and each as big as a full-grown man. The spider had not yet seen them so Legolas gestured for them to keep hidden. They sank into the leaves of their respective trees. They peeped through the branches, watching the spider's advance with bated breath. Legolas wondered where such a beast came from and why he had never heard of it before. It was memorable enough to spawn tales and rumors. Aragorn was analyzing the monster's week points, looking for a conceivable plan of attack. He was actually glad for the distraction. Aragorn could focus on battle with all his energy and drive all thoughts of the delicious elf in the tree beside him away.

As the spider approached, at an alarming rate, its stench of rotten eggs and corpses filled the air. Both warriors stifled a gag, hoping the beast would simply pass them by. It was now so close now Legolas could see the individual hairs incasing its massive legs. He waited apprehensively as it scuttled passed him. The monster's head was only ten feet below him, its beady eyes staring decidedly ahead. Legolas knew not to exhale loudly as the spider moved passed his hiding place. Suddenly it stopped. Legolas froze. He had done nothing to give himself away, but it had not mattered. The spider's eyes rolled back to focus on Legolas staring at the elf as if he was a morsel of food. A lesser warrior would have frozen, but Legolas started firing arrows at the spider's eyes in a rapid succession. Five hit their targets before the spider lunged at Legolas forcing him to jump to the next tree. The spider's lunge was so forceful it nocked down not only the first tree and the second, but also the tree in which Aragorn hid. The three ancient trees splintered and crashed to the ground as Legolas and Aragorn hastily clung to near by trees that had not been toppled.

The Spider was still trying to figure out how to function with only three working eyes, so Legolas swung himself into Aragorn's tree.

"If you distract it, I can get close enough to kill the beast. Three well-placed arrows in the back of the neck from close range should be adequate." The elf proposed. Aragorn quickly thought this over. The plan would most likely work if executed properly, but one or both of them might die in the process. Seeing no better plan the man nodded his consent and launching himself from the tree. He landed on the monster's leg and it's barb like hairs dug into his skin. Nonetheless he proceeded in hacking at the leg with his sword effectively drawing its attention. Legolas lightly plummeted to the spider's hairy back. Softly treading towards its exposed neck. All seemed to be working, but suddenly that plan went horribly wrong. As Aragorn slashed and jumped from one leg to another more needles pierced his skin so despite his commendable swordsmanship he slowed as they were coated in a strong paralytic. When the spider's razor pincers descended onto him he did not slash quickly enough. The beast grabbed him and raised him high. Its pincers digging into his sides drew blood that welled up and gushed down like a waterfall. When Legolas saw this he immediately abandoned his task and dashed towards the extended pincer. He drew his knives as he flipped onto the monster's head slashing at the claws holding Aragorn. He stood right next to the monster's eyes, but paid them no heed. His attention was solely focused on freeing Aragorn. He did not have space in his thoughts at this time to notice how much he cared for a man he barley knew. The man in question had gone unconscious, his eyelids fluttered open showing only the whites, and his skin was pale from blood loss. Legolas was so absorbed in freeing Aragorn that he didn't see the second pincer until it was upon him. Luckily Legolas had fast reflexes even for an elf and managed to dive out of the way, but the pincer still caught him in the forehead. He ignored the wound and slashed at the limb imprisoning Aragorn one more time. It fell off the great spider with a crash. The beast tried desperately to shake off Legolas, but the elf was sliding down anyway.

He ran to Aragorn and painstakingly pried him from the tight pincer. When he was done he shot several arrows at the spider that was quickly getting over the loss of its right arm. This bought Legolas enough time to drag Aragorn into a hollow off the path. Having traveled this path many times before Legolas knew that it extended into a great cave perfect for hiding until he could figure out what to do.


	3. The Cave

Chapter Three: The Cave

The cave was small and dark, but Legolas was glad for it's shelter as he carried in an unconscious Aragorn. He immediately got to work healing the man. The pincers had cut deep and the spiders poison kept him frozen. Legolas ripped off Aragorn's shirt and hastily rummaged through for the proper healing herbs. Aragorn was the better healer of the two, but Legolas's skills were good enough to stop Aragorn from bleeding to death. He applied the herbs and tightly bandaged the wound. Then proceeded in carefully pulling out each of the spider's hairs lodged in Aragorn's skin. This was a painstaking process because if Legolas made one mistake a needle could shatter making it almost impossible to extract. Legolas's vision blurred and his hands tiered, but he continued for many hours until each needle had been removed. He the coated the puncture wounds with a healing solve to draw out the poison more quickly. Aragorn was sinking through unconsciousness, but he felt the elf's tender touch even in his dreams.

In his tending of Aragorn, Legolas had neglected to take care of the rather deep cut on his forehead. He remembered it as a swell of dizziness overcame him. The world tilted and swirled around him. When he touched his face he realized it was caked in blood. He calmly cleaned the wound and applied bandages before sinking into an exhausted, blood loss induced sleep.

Legolas awoke to a pounding headache. He groggily lifted himself, trying to get a grip on his surroundings. Light shafted through the thin gap in the caves mouth illuminating the still unconscious form of Aragorn. The past days events' came back to the elf: the spider, Aragorn getting injured, Legolas saving him. Legolas was not usually this disoriented when he awoke, but the deep cut on his forehead was affecting his mental capacities. Even so, he stood up, bracing himself for the wave of vertigo and nausea that hit him. When this passed Legolas tiptoed to the entrance of the cave. Peering out carefully he caught sight of the spider sitting like a sulky mountain a quarter of a mile away from him. Legolas knew that before long he would have to venture out in search of food and water, but right now they have enough provisions to last until Legolas regained some of his balance.

He stumbled back to where Aragorn lay and sat down. The man's breaths were shallow and skin pale. Legolas dutifully checked the wound for infection and applied fresh herbs. Feeling the human's fragile body under his hands made Legolas feel protective. If he could have seen himself he would have described the look in his eyes as affection at the very least. The day before in the battle these feelings had been easy enough to ignore, but now in this cave there was no distraction. Legolas had nothing to do but keep watch and fail at driving thoughts of Aragorn from his mind. His feelings in turn puzzled, scared, and overwhelmed him. Unlike Aragorn the elf had never truly been it love. So he sat in the partial darkness watching Aragorn sleep with a mixture of longing and fear.

Aragorn was swimming through a well pain and spider poison. Every breath stabbed, the darkness called to him. He could not move his body at all. The loss of control was terrifying. He felt himself being moved, but he could not open his eyes. He remembered the spider grabbing him in its cutting pincers and then blackness overcame him. Aragorn lay for hours in darkness unable to move an inch and drowning in waves of pain. The only comfort was the elf's silken fingers tenderly touching his battered body. They danced across Aragorn bandaging and sliding out needles reminding him that life was not always pain and darkness.

Aragorn's eyes flickered open as the cave filled with the muted orange light of sunset. He was stiff and sore, and still could not move very much due to the spider poison. He looked around franticly trying to determine where he was. When his eyes fell to the elf siting a few paces away he calmed down and worked out what happened. Legolas sat loosely, staring at the setting sun with a thoughtful expression on his face. A single red-gold shaft of light made its way into the cave, falling on the elf and illuminating his splendor. Aragorn noticed the blood stained bandage wrapping Legolas's head, and felt a pang of sorrow when he realized that the elf was most likely injured saving him. Aragorn did not speak; instead he just lay there studying the elf with aching desire. He did not understand why he felt so strongly for someone he had met a week before, but he knew it would never work. Aragorn tried to banish the thoughts at first, but he was woozy with pain and soon stopped trying. Instead he basked in the elf's loveliness and thought of little else.

The following night was spent with very little happening. Legolas tended to Aragorn's wounds and made him drink water. They sat in relative silence, getting some sleep, both longing secretly for the other. But in the early hours of the following morning they began to talk, about nothing much at first, but as the conversation progressed they spoke of many things. They discussed the creeping darkness, the elves departure from middle earth, their feelings on this matter. As the night wore on they talked of more personal things. Aragorn told Legolas about growing up this the elves of Rivendell, of his place among the rangers. Legolas was more reserved, but he too told Aragorn about his home in Mirkwood, and father: King Thranduil.

When Aragorn finally drifted to sleep the sun had not yet risen. Legolas watched him slip away with sadness. Hearing about Aragorn's life made him feel more connected to the man. He had spoken plainly about many hardships and perils, but there was no bid for pity in his words. It might have been the pain, or simply Aragorn's personality, Legolas did not know, but he shared a lot with the elf. Legolas was glad for it. Each piece of information about the warrior was a prize. He clutched at each one, repeating the words in his head, forming a picture of the man before him.

Aragorn chastised himself for telling the elf so much, but he knew he could not help himself. Legolas's kind eyes and warm smile made him forget himself, and tell him everything. Legolas had not shared as much in return, but that made the things he did say all the more precious. The elf was a wordsmith to be sure. His stories were marvelous in their depth and understanding of those around him. When he spoke of his father's city Aragorn could see the place in his mind. All night he just drowned in the luxurious folds of Legolas's voice. With every second his need for the elf increased until it almost drove him mad. He had to pretend to drift off to sleep to halt the glorious agony of Legolas's words. When he closed his eyes Aragorn realized that he truly was exhausted from pain and healing. The man fell into a fitful sleep with a picture of the elf's golden perfection branded in his mind.


	4. Mistake

**Chapter Four: Mistake**

It took a week for Aragorn to heal enough to sit up. The Spider's pincers had cut deep and any movement still brought him ample pain. It was also at this time that they ran out of water. They had enough elven bread to last for at least a week more, but Legolas could not longer put off this important task. The gash across his head was healed enough as to not be freely bleeding, but it was still there, crimson and throbbing. Nonetheless Legolas readied himself to leave the cave. He slung on his quiver and bow and sheathed his knives. Aragorn bid him be carful.  
"The water isn't far, you should be fine." He said, as if reassuring himself. Legolas was comforted that Aragorn cared. He smiled softly at the man, and then carefully slid from the cave. The spider was still there glowering menacingly at nothing in particular. Legolas was again stunned be its enormity, but he did not let this slow him down. He walked quickly on light feet towards a river to the left. He darted through the trees and over the uneven ground. When he reached the water he wasted no time in filling all the containers. Mission accomplished he headed back towards the cave. He was just a few yards away from the mouth of the cave when the spider spotted him. Legolas lunged for the opening, but the spider was faster. It pounced onto him. The spider was so big that even though it missed its mark, the force slammed Legolas into the cave so hard, that he momentarily blacked out.  
Aragorn had been waiting for the elf's return in a state of upmost anxiety. He kept picturing Legolas pale and lifeless, bleeding to death on the forest floor. Aragorn was a warrior; he should be fighting, not hiding in a cave. In the past week he felt like the two of them truly got to know each other. He knew the elf disliked eating breakfast, that he braided his hair when he got flustered, that his warm smile came easily, and a hundred other details such as this. Knowing all these things made the though of Legolas's death so much harder endure, So when his limp form flew through into the cave and hit the floor with a sharp crack Aragorn tried to prepare himself for the worst.  
He crawled over to the elf as fast as his injured body would let him, desperately feeling for a pulse. When his fingers felt a steady rhythm at the elf's neck he was overcome with relief. Before he could stop himself he kissed Legolas squarely on the lips. For a moment the only thing in the world was the elf's lips under his, soft, warm, and silky. Then the world came crashing back down. Appalled with his lack of control Aragorn drew back quickly, but the damage was done, Legolas's eyes were fluttering open.  
Legolas had just been thrown threw the air by a giant spider then crashed hard into a hard stone floor and he woke to Aragorn's lips pressing into his. At first he thought it had been a hallucination brought on to the impact, but the mortified look on the man's face proved this to be wrong. Legolas's thoughts were still jumbled from the crash, so it took him a few moments to collect his thoughts. While he was doing this Aragorn was quickly rebadging the elf's forehead gash, as the force of the fall had forced it open. Throughout this task he was attempting not to perish from embarrassment. He hoped that the elf would not remember the kiss, and tried to eliminate all attraction he felt for him. This was very difficult for Aragorn as he ran his fingers through Legolas's silky hair.  
The elf in the mean time was arranging his thoughts. I got the water. The spider slammed me into the cave. My head is bleeding again. I hope it heals quickly. Being injured is tremendously irritating. Aragorn kissed me. Why did Aragorn kiss me? Aragorn's lips are smooth. I like kissing Aragorn. Does this mean that he feels the same way about me? What does that mean for us? Damn, I'm all dizzy again. In the time it took for Legolas to order these thoughts Aragorn had completed the bandaging and had begun to retreat farther into the cave. Legolas stopped him with an outstretched hand, firmly clasping his wrist. Aragorn flinched at the touch. The elf's fingers were long and graceful. The contact was to much for Aragorn to bear in the face of his horrible mistake.  
"You kissed me." Legolas said. Whether it was a question or statement neither knew, but Aragorn responded with a quick nod. A great wave of relief crashed down on Legolas. At least this had not been his imagination. Aragorn steeled himself for the humiliation and shame that was surely yet to come.  
"Why?" The word was soft and gentle. So unlike Aragorn had imagined. He racked his mind for an excuse, but this elf had risked his life to get Aragorn water, he deserved the truth.  
"I was relived that you were alive." The words were said stubbornly. The subtext obvious: judge me it you dare. Legolas pondered this answer. It didn't really tell him if Aragorn duplicated his feelings, but he was tired of waiting. The elf pulled Aragorn's wrist from under him, toppling the man down on top of him. Their chests were pressed together. Legolas could feel Aragorn's heart beat and his warmth. Their faces were inches apart. The two, stared into each other's eyes. Legolas's were playful smirking eyes, Aragorn's the eyes of a man who wouldn't dare to hope. Legolas reached up, wrapping his strong arms around Aragorn's back, pulling the man into a long deep kiss.  
Aragorn was stunned. For a moment he was simply frozen then he responded. He passionately kissed the elf back, pressing their lips closer together. He felt Legolas's arms pulling him nearer. Aragorn responded running his hands down his form, feeling its lean well muscled shape. The elf began moving his lips down Aragorn's neck, carefully covering the bare skin in expressive kisses. Pleasure exploded through Aragorn. He slid his arms under Legolas's shirt, deftly pulling it over the elf's head. His own soon followed, joining it on the floor. After suppressing their longing for a full week of being trapped in a cave with nothing but each other the passion was explosive.  
A few short minutes later they were both completely undressed and Aragorn was pushing Legolas up against the wall. Legolas wrapped his arms around the man, tracing his figure with expressive hands, exploring the contours of the man's shape, as he had wanted do since the moment he'd laid eyes on him. He had to hold him up at he was still too week to stand on his own, but this did not impede their lovemaking. Legolas was filled with joy like he had not felt before in his centuries of life. Aragorn nuzzled ferociously at the elf's neck, pressing himself into his so that they were touching at every point along their bodies. Touch of Legolas's naked flesh surrounding him drove Aragorn mad with passion. The gasping sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth were music. To Aragorn touching the elf felt as natural as breathing. Legolas fit into him like this was destined to happen and Aragorn wondered what he had been so afraid of.  
Hours later they lay, utterly spent, on Legolas's cloak on the cave floor. The night was warm so they hadn't seen the point of redressing. Aragorn slept with his head on Legolas's bare chest, cradled in the elf's arms. Legolas was softly stroking the man's dark hair and staring at the roof of the cave. For the first time the immortal elf finally felt at peace. His thoughts were of only the man beside him, his sent, his smile, the color of his eyes, the way he looked at Legolas in the heat of passion like their was no better sight in the world. The elf's head throbbed slightly, because of the exertion, but he did not care. He was lost in a blur of Aragorn, engulfed in the simple pleasure of holding someone he loved. He drifted of to sleep after hours of merely laying there savoring that simple bliss.


	5. Yaniel

Chapter Five: Yaniel

Aragorn awoke like that, in the arms of his lover, but his happiness was cut short by the blinding pain in his sides. The exertion of the night before had stunted the healing process and reopened the deep cuts. Aragorn couldn't help himself, he gasped with pain. Legolas immediately woke up at the sound. He franticly sat up, moving his lover carefully off of him. Immediately he noticed that the bandages wrapping Aragorn's naked torso were soaked in blood and realized what had happened. Though his mind was in total panic, he calmly stood up to retrieve the medicine. Quickly, but carefully the elf reapplied herbs to speed the heaping and act as to ease the pain; he then wrapped the wound in fresh bandages. When he finished, Legolas pulled his clothing back on, as well as helping Aragorn to dress. The elf's fingers were practical as he helped Aragorn back into his garments, but he still tingled as they danced along his flesh. Legolas completed the task with a soft good morning kiss.

When he drew back Aragorn's head was in his lap. They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply starting into the each other's eyes. As Aragorn studied the elf's warm gray eyes the depth of the feeling in them took his breath away. Prior to that moment he had not really believed that he had not dreamed what he remembered so vividly from the night before. Legolas saw unusual vulnerability and pain in his lover's eyes that reassured him, as he was slightly frightened to know what the previous night's endeavors signified.

"Good morning." Legolas said. The two small words were bursting with emotion, a mixture of playfulness, affection, and fear that accumulated to a question: what did that mean? Legolas was unaccustomed to love in both its physical and emotional manifestations, so he was lost as to how to continue. Aragorn was still in ample pain and it was clouding his thoughts terribly. He wondered what the elf expected from him. Aragorn tried to marshal his swirling mind, but Legolas's glossy blond hair was rumpled in a very distracting way. Aragorn knew however that the elf needed confirmation that the connection they shared was real so he laboriously sharped his focus.

"Good morning." The words were weak and Aragorn's voice broke, but he had managed to inject feeling into the reply. Legolas seemed to understand that Aragorn was in too much pain for flirting so he spent the day at the mouth of the cave, siting in the single ray of light that snuck into the shadowy hollow. Every so often he returned to Aragorn to check his wounds and make him drink some of the hard won water. During these exchanges the words and touches were not at all tense as one might think. This was accomplished by the peculiar brightness that Legolas brought to everything he did. He was so gentle and kind with Aragorn that the tension immediately evaporated. Aragorn for his part wished he would just heal so that he could finally have his way with the elf. The feel of his feathery touch as Legolas checked his bandages or softly brushed the hair from Aragorn's eyes felt amazing, but it was also a horrible tease. After Aragorn had spent the night making love to the flawless elf, nothing compared. And yet the look in Legolas's eyes, of tender compassion made Aragorn love him even more than his perfect kisses.

Legolas was in turmoil all day. He had no idea how to handle the feelings welling up inside of him. Even when injured, Aragorn seemed so confident, like he knew what he was doing. Aragorn was in control. Legolas did not feel in control in any sense of the word. He tried to rationalize and understand, but flashes of the previous night of passion kept rising to the surface: the feel of Aragorn's leg pressing up against his own, his hands caught in the elf's long hair, his lips whispering kisses all over his eager body.

Legolas studied the forest through the gap in the cave. The spider was still there skulking, apparently it had noting better to do than make their lives harder, but Legolas was thankful, as it gave him a justification to linger in the cave with Aragorn. After a while Legolas had stopped trying to organize his thoughts so they just floated around untethered. He knew he would have to confront the reality of whatever this dalliance with Aragorn became, but in that moment he simply permitted himself relive memories of Aragorn's warmth and passion. Legolas did not merely think of Aragorn. He found his mind wandering to mostly unrelated memories from hundreds of years before. He found himself remembering many moments with his younger sister Yaniel. Legolas had never been in love before, but he had loved his sister more than anything in the world, so these newfound feelings for Aragorn made him recollect her.

Legolas's flawless memory jumped back seven hundred years to her birth. As a baby she was the height of perfection and her creamy skin and silky blond hair matched Legolas's exactly. He remembered gazing upon her for the first time, the way that she turned to look upon him for the first time with large eyes. With biter gladness he recalled how looked at him like she owned his very soul, and she did. Most elflings do not cry much, but Yaniel never once wailed. Instead she filled the air with happy coos and gurgles that were so musical they drew flocks of people to her nursery simply to listen. Yaniel loved everyone, but she had a particular affinity to Legolas. She was never happier than when she was with him. Legolas remembered many instances when his mother had to wrestle her away from him.

In his mind Legolas had a picture of Yaniel at twelve. She was much like other elves in her love of nature, song, and dance, but she was wilder. Her blond hair was unusually curly, not ruler straight as with most elves. Her songs were not historical ballads sung softly indoors. Recalling the countless memories of Yaniel skipping with pale curls flying, and singing songs she had just made up, at the top of her lungs always brought tears to Legolas's eyes, but also a smile. She was his best friend for two hundred years. From the time she could ride a horse she followed him around everywhere. Thranduil objected at first. It was unseemly for a princess to put herself in the danger Legolas constantly faced, but he soon realized he could not stop her. So Yaniel's magnificent songs and sharp mind followed Legolas everywhere he went.

At first Legolas thought that his little sister might be a burden, but he was soon proven wrong. Despite her wild nature Yaniel could be utterly charming, her wining smile softening even the coldest of hearts. During negations she was often a valuable asset. In battle she was fierce, favoring two curved hunting knives over the traditional bow she was a whirlwind of slashing, unstoppable and deadly. Once when Legolas was off collecting firewood bandits came upon their camp. Seeing just a small girl guarding many elven treasures they attempted to steel both Yaniel and the treasures. When Legolas retuned to the camp, arms full of firewood, ten heavily armed bandits were dead on the forest floor. A few were slashed through, some stabbed, and the remainder were beheaded. Yaniel had permitted five of them flee after they wretchedly begged for her mercy. Legolas was unsurprised, as he had already seen his sister in battle, so he simply helped her move the bodies and listened to her story with amusement. Legolas was not so callous to delight in death, but anyone that tried to kidnap his little sister deserved her wrath in his mind.

They spent two centuries like that, Legolas and Yaniel traveling through Middle Earth on their father's business and adventures of their own. They were a perfect team, knowing each other so well they could tell what the other was thinking in an instant. Legolas loved her so much that her smile could turn an unpleasant day enjoyable in a moment. Yaniel, as a younger elf, had idolized Legolas, but after a few decades of collaboration they became equals. Whether they were tracking a criminal, or arranging an alliance, they were partners. So when Thranduil arranged her marriage to an elf of Rivendell Legolas was extremely distressed. Yaniel was heart broken. She had believed that Thranduil had accepted the choices she made. She cried bolted in her for days, not even allowing Legolas to see her. Her gentle brother was disturbed, and tried to reason with their father, but he would not budge. He had said, "Yaniel has squandered enough time being a inane self-indulgent child, it's time she grew up and took responsibility."

When Yaniel finally came down from her room the life had been taken from her. It physically hurt Legolas to remember her like that, empty and broken, eyes like shattered glass. He wanted to kill his father then, for betraying her like that, but he didn't. He stroked her hair as she stared into the distance, reminding her that her life was not over, speaking tales of the elf queens who still had adventures after they were married. Her husband was nice enough. A brave warrior and close counselor to Elrond. He obliviously fell deeply in love with Yaniel. He had seen her from afar and admired her wild beauty and charm. When he properly met her she smiled and curtsied prettily looking straight into his eyes. Legolas knew he was the only one who could see her pain, except maybe their mother. Legolas had never been sure how much his mother saw. She was a mystery even to him, but she winced as she watched her only daughter suffer.

Yaniel was married for fifty years before she died. Every time Legolas visited she was less there. She faded from the vibrant woman Legolas had known for two hundred years to a shadow. She could trick most people into believing her to be her usual happy enchanting self, but Legolas could see the darkness. The thinly masked desperation in her voice when she informed him that she was pregnant terrified Legolas. He could see her sanity slowly slipping away, but there was nothing her could do. He was miserable and lonely without her, but he knew she had it far worse. When she died in childbirth Legolas wasn't surprised, heartbroken, empty, and maybe a little insane, but not surprised. Elves didn't usually die of childbirth. Their medicines were so good, not to mention the strength of their bodies, but when someone doesn't want to live anymore sometimes they just die. Yaniel's husband was left with twins, a beautiful baby girl and boy. He loved her intensely for half a century so at her death he withdrew into himself, becoming bland and businesslike. He completely lost his connection to nature. Legolas ran away from the pain and never stopped running.

Legolas noticed that his eyes had filled with tears, but he did not wipe them away. He had not shed a tear for his sister in more than six hundred years. He hadn't felt love in more than six hundred years. Legolas was the perfect elf. He cared deeply for nature. He cared for all living things, but just in the overall sense of loving everything. Since the death of his sister love was only an abstraction, or a memory. These feelings for Aragorn were not love yet, but they were the beginnings of love if Legolas allowed it. This frightened Legolas greatly, but it also gave him hope, a hope for the future that he had not possessed in a very long time.

**Author's Note: **I will not post the next chapter until I get at least one review. (Though more would be better!)


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